


If You Can't Make Your Own Eggs, Store Bought Is Fine.

by FangsScalesSkin



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Egg Laying, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, My entry into the delightful genre of Crowley becoming a scaly monster during sex, Other, Oviposition, Sex Toys, Though with more emphasis on the 'sex' than the 'comedy', Transformation, sex comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24321199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangsScalesSkin/pseuds/FangsScalesSkin
Summary: “Ah,” was all Aziraphale said at first when Crowley broached the subject while watching the Great British Bake Off. “Eggs?” He seemed to be split between confused and thoughtful but it still kind of made Crowley want to crawl into a dark hole somewhere. “I’m not judging you, darling, simply considering the practicalities,” Aziraphale was quick to reassure. “How it can be done.”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 415
Collections: Courts GO Re-Reads





	If You Can't Make Your Own Eggs, Store Bought Is Fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Ginger for the extremely fun challenge to write the most self-indulgent thing I could think of, and much love to the Greenhouse for the encouragement and many egg emojis, as well as the MoFu server for thirst and encouragement, too!

There comes a time in a demon’s 6000-year-long existence where he has to look upon his kinks and ask himself “is this a snake thing, a demon thing, a snake demon thing, or the result of millennia of observing all the extremely inventive filth humans have come up with?” 

Untangling whatever mixture of nature, nurture, and divinely-ordained weirdness that an occult or ethereal being’s kinks came from was a task beyond the remit of even the most accomplished of human sexologists. There were probably Ophanim out there in the cosmos somewhere spinning wheels through each other for kicks, Cherubs fumbling through a combination of ox-lion-eagle-human courtship rituals before doing the metaphysical nasty, and that’s just the angelic side of things. Crowley didn’t even want to know what other demons got up to.

So when Crowley woke from a wet dream with sticky thighs and some extremely confused dream memories of Aziraphale fucking eggs into him ( _eggs_ ), Crowley took a good long look at himself and then shrugged internally and moved on to the more important part, namely, was it something that’s actually physically possible, and would Aziraphale help him make it a reality?

While he was still working up the courage to ask Aziraphale about it, he couldn’t get the idea out of his head. Now that it was in his conscious thoughts, he’d space out while misting his plants and imagine Aziraphale pinning him down and filling him. The fuzziness of the actual mechanics involved didn’t stop him fantasising about it. He knew Aziraphale’s physical form wasn’t as malleable as his own but there had to be some way to make it work.

“Ah,” was all Aziraphale said at first when Crowley broached the subject while watching the Great British Bake Off. “Eggs?” He seemed to be split between confused and thoughtful but it still kind of made Crowley want to crawl into a dark hole somewhere. “I’m not judging you, darling, simply considering the practicalities,” Aziraphale was quick to reassure. “How it can be done.”

“Nnyyyeah,” Crowley choked out. “The practicalities.” He shifted in his seat, but fuck it, he’d faced down Satan, he could survive a slightly awkward conversation about kinks. “I know you can only really switch things up in ways that follow, uh, a human sort of shape.” 

“I could try…” Aziraphale said, doubtfully.

“Please don’t. I don’t want you to break your junk trying to miracle it into some sort of Cronenbergian ovipositor tube.”

Aziraphale made an alarmed face. “While I’m not familiar with the word ‘Cronenbergian’ I believe I can agree wholeheartedly with you on the rest.”

“Might have to just do this the human way.”

“Crowley, you do know that humans don’t lay eggs?”

No, this was _not_ going to turn into another conversation about whether dolphins were mammals or Aziraphale reminding him that he hadn’t understood why two unicorns were needed on the Ark. It just _wasn’t_.

“Yep! Yeah! Pretty clear on that! Don’t need a reminder!” Crowley took a deep, calming, deliberate breath and wrestled his tone back from ‘mildly hysterical’ to ‘deceptively reasonable’. Crowley could create a lot of chaos with that ‘deceptively reasonable’ voice. Luckily he was only trying to persuade an angel to stuff him full of eggs in an anatomically improbable manner. “Humans have come up with all sorts, angel. Including sex toys shaped like eggs.”

“That is a relief. If you were about to propose that I put chicken eggs into you I was going to have to refuse. What if they cracked while inside you… No, no, that would be a terrible mess.” Aziraphale took a prim sip of his tea as if he hadn’t just been talking about chicken eggs in places they really didn’t belong.

It was Crowley’s turn to make a disgusted face. He did not want to think about egg yolk and bits of shell crammed up in his vagina.

“Noooo, thank you. Bless it, I’m going to have to have a drink of something strong to wash away _that_ mental image.” Crowley extracted himself from the tangle of limbs on the couch to go stand up. “Want a glass?”

“If you’re offering!” Aziraphale smiled and turned back to watch the judging of some sugarspun monstrosity whilst Crowley looked through the wine rack and desperately tried not to think about chicken eggs.

Fortunately he was able to purge the chicken egg horror from his mind in about a week, aided by browsing the work of artisanal dicksmiths on Etsy. Some of them had taken the initiative and expanded into selling a range of silicone eggs, and Crowley didn’t even have to plant the idea in a mortal’s mind first. The things came in a range of colours and different firmnesses, and they weren’t too much to look at by themselves, but Crowley got carried away with the fantasy of what it would be like to have Aziraphale pushing them into him one by one and ended up buying a dozen.

There was no way he was possibly going to be able to fit a dozen silicone eggs up his snatch, but maybe he could if he rearranged things and got rid of the completely non-functional uterus that tagged along when he made himself a vulva, along with a few more internal organs he was pretty sure he’d never need as an immortal demon who didn’t use a digestive system… Probably best to start with only getting rid of the uterus. He might end up all hollowed out otherwise, wobbling around the place like a wacky waving inflatable arm-flailing tube man. 

That was the thing about having a highly changeable physical form and an only vague grasp of a human’s internal biology. It more or less worked because he expected it to, but if he messed around too much it could get _weird_ and mortals would notice. So Crowley traded out the uterus for some space to fit more eggs, left it at that, and didn’t think too hard about the logistics except to strongly and pointedly imagine that he’d enjoy it. Reality would take the hint and play along.

It took a level of self-control Crowley had hardly known he had not to set up camp next to the door to his flat to wait for the post to arrive. Only on the fifth day did he realise that he could have simply miracled the things into existence, but by then he had invested enough time in waiting that he’d feel completely foolish if he did. So he did the second best thing and faffed around Aziraphale’s shop. There was no better way to waste time as far as Crowley was concerned.

When the package arrived at last he fairly pounced on it, opening it at his desk right away and assessing the contents. A dozen silicone eggs in various colours, some sparkly and some marbled. There were a few with a white-gold gradient that had made him think of Aziraphale and it was frankly embarrassing how that had swayed his selection. He squished one in his palm, and it was firm with a little bit of give. Huh. If this didn’t turn out as enjoyable as he hoped, he could at least use them as stress balls. Or throw them out the window at confused passers-by. Crowley laughed to himself as he imagined the expressions on their faces.

“Hey Angel, the, uh, things arrived,” Crowley said the next time he got the angel into his bed. He hadn’t had to wait long. When Aziraphale had pressed Crowley back against the breakfast counter with greedy kisses in thanks for getting the angel a favourite treat, it was all Crowley could do to remember he had plans and not melt right there. Plans involving an angel, a bed, and a dozen colourful fake eggs.

“Things?” Aziraphale paused in kissing along Crowley’s jaw, a questioning look on his face.

“You know. The whatsits.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow.

“The _eggs_.” Finally at that outburst a look of understanding graced the angel’s face. “Had to make me say it, didn’t you,” Crowley muttered.

“Don’t be upset, darling, I wasn’t teasing on purpose.” Aziraphale ran the soft pad of his thumb along Crowley’s cheek. 

“Nah, I knew that. ‘S just awkward is all.” Crowley turned his face to kiss Aziraphale’s thumb. It was stupid to be embarrassed about it, especially considering that he was a demon. Whoever heard of a demon embarrassed about sex? Then again, whoever heard of a demon in love with an angel? Yet here he was, embarrassed and in love. “I still want to do it though. How about tonight?”

“Why not!” Aziraphale said cheerily. If he had his hands free he’d probably have clapped them together. Crowley rolled his eyes fondly but the enthusiastic reply also made him feel warm and fond and a bit turned on because Aziraphale had him pressed against the bed, smiling down at him, and it was _happening_ , he was going to get stuffed with eggs like he’d _only_ been fantasising about for the last several weeks.

Crowley licked his lips and grinned, confidence returning to him, and with a snap of his fingers the cardboard box landed with a muffled _twump_ on the bed. Aziraphale rolled off him, which was a bit of a shame, but immediately looked at the box’s contents, so that was alright. He watched as Aziraphale lifted up one of the eggs, turned it over, and made an appreciative coo when the light hit the metallic sparkling parts.

Then he said something which made Crowley’s brain short out entirely.

“If I’m to fill you up, it’s only right for my eggs to be nice and pretty, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Ehm,” Crowley said unintelligently, distantly aware of the flush creeping up the back of his neck.

“Did I say something wrong?” Aziraphale, still holding up one of the white-gold eggs, gave him a look of concern.

“Noooo,” Crowley said, shifting in place and not-so-surreptitiously wriggling out of his pants. Aziraphale, talking about filling him up, calling the silicone things his eggs, the realisation that he was going to put them in Crowley, as in, really put them in Crowley - hearing Aziraphale actually say it was like having a pallet of bricks dropped on him, except the bricks were lust, and okay that was a bad simile but he was struggling through an abrupt haze of arousal at having his kink fulfilled so he could _probably_ be forgiven a rubbish simile.

He didn’t say any of that, though. He just sucked in a breath and bit his lower lip when Aziraphale helped strip the clothes off his lower half and then paused to cup Crowley’s cheek in his hand. Crowley nuzzled into his palm.

“Love? Are you alright? You’ve gone rather non-verbal. We can’t continue unless you tell me what the matter is.”

Crowley nodded, then mustered the words. “Yeah, I’m alright. I was, _fuck_ , just caught out at how hot that was.” He couldn’t suppress a shiver. “Hearing you talk about filling me like that...”

“Oh, it was, was it?” Aziraphale had that particular glint in his eyes, one that spoke of Aziraphale’s brand of mischief and of being very pleased with himself. So long as this time it involved Crowley getting filled with eggs he didn’t mind. (Handcuffs have been banned from the bedroom ever since Aziraphale tried to do a _fucking magic trick_ in bed.)

“Yeah, it was,” Crowley breathed, letting his legs fall open and blatantly spreading them for Aziraphale. The colder air on the slick heat of his snatch just made him more aware of how wet he’d managed to get before even being touched. It didn’t escape his notice how Aziraphale’s gaze was drawn there immediately, and he smirked. “Like what you see? Gonna fill me up now?”

“I do…” Aziraphale probably didn’t even realise he’d licked his lips, and if it were any other night Crowley would ask to be eaten out, but right now he wanted those eggs inside him. “I’m going to have to warm you up first, darling. Make sure you can take these delightful toys you’ve bought.”

“Aaaaaangel,” Crowley whined. 

“Hush.” Aziraphale pinned Crowley back down and captured him in a kiss, and before Crowley could complain about getting on with it, he had a hand teasing at Crowley’s slit, fingers dipping down to his wetness and then back up to circle his clit. Crowley slumped back bonelessly onto the bed sheets, his hips arching up to press into Aziraphale's clever fingers. 

After stroking along Crowley's slit some more, Aziraphale gently parted Crowley's labia to get two fingers in him. There was no resistance, Crowley biting his lip at how slick he'd become and how easily Aziraphale was able to fingerfuck him.

"There we go," Aziraphale smiled down at him, so fond that the corners of his eyes crinkled up.

"Mmn." Crowley struggled a bit to manage words when Aziraphale rubbed at his clit again. "Fff. Fuck. Fill me already."

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps you need more warming up first." Bastard said that and slid three fingers inside him with ease. Were his eyes twinkling? Crowley's dignity couldn't take more of this, even if it was kind of a turn on.

"Angel. Aziraphale. Darling. Sweetheart. Love. Please, love." 

Just as Crowley hoped, his angel melted like butter at the endearments. 

"Oh, alright, you needy thing." Aziraphale pecked him on the lips and, while Crowley wasn't even paying full attention, started to press one of the eggs inside him.

It was satisfyingly dense, and needed a bit of encouragement to get all the way inside. Once in, he clenched around it, whining at how his arousal picked up now he had an egg in him. It was like the dial in his brain had been turned up from _horny_ to _extremely horny oh fuck_.

"Another."

“Needy creature.” Aziraphale smiled down at him, eyes sparkling with amusement and affection, and Crowley opened his mouth to try and say something smart in reply, but then Aziraphale was pushing another egg into him.

Crowley panted and worked his hips to drive the egg in deeper, clenching around it. Aziraphale pinning him down was driving him wild, and he didn’t give two damns if it was some sort of instinct, an atavistic urge kicked up by the snake part of his nature, or a fetish he’d picked up along the way but never realised because he’d only let himself be in this situation with the one he _loved_. He clenched down harder on the eggs, feeling warm and tingly and kind of embarrassed that the love turned him on as much as the kinky bit.

“There. _My_ needy creature.” Aziraphale sounded fond and hungry, and caught him in a messy kiss. Crowley made what he was sure was an extremely undignified noise, melting under the attention. 

“Doing alright, dearest?” Aziraphale kissed at Crowley’s cheek so he could reply. As if that was even a question that needed asking. But Aziraphale would be happier to hear it.

“Yesssssss.” Ah, fuck, he was hissing. He could feel his tongue getting longer, refusing to cooperate. Before Crowley could concentrate on looking more human, Aziraphale’s thumb was circling his clit and Crowley’s train of thought derailed so hard it turned into jelly. Or maybe that was Crowley’s legs and hips turned into jelly? 

“More,” Crowley panted out. The two eggs in him were nice and ohfuckyes did they feel good to squeeze and clench around but he needed to be filled. It was all he could think about.

“More what, darling?”

“More eggs. Obviously.” What else would he _possibly_ be talking about?

“If you want more you’ll have to be nice and polite about it. Use your please’s and thank you’s.” For all Aziraphale sounded stern, his hand stilling atop Crowley’s clit, he was smiling. 

Part of Crowley wanted to be contrary about it, insist that he wasn’t nice or polite or good, but a much larger part of him wanted nothing more in that moment than for Aziraphale to stuff him full, and if he wanted that he’d have to be polite and do what Aziraphale wanted. Never mind that he did what Aziraphale wanted a lot of the time anyway, just to make him happy. Right now Crowley was definitely only doing it to get what he wanted himself. A bit of 'enlightened self-interest'.

“More please,” Crowley whined. 

“Very good,” Aziraphale said, and accompanied the words with unceremoniously pushing a third egg inside Crowley. The slick stretch of it inside him combined with the praise made Crowley shiver, his thoughts distant to the deep pleasure of pleasing Aziraphale and getting rewarded and starting to be filled up properly.

“Thanksssss.” This earned him the return of Aziraphale’s thumb to his clit. Crowley couldn’t help but rock against it. Thank fuck that didn’t seem to count as not being polite.

“My good demon.” A fourth. The angel was doing it on purpose, the praise together with the jolt of fucking the egg into him, but Crowley was past caring. He dug his nails, now sharpened to claws, into the bedcovers as he clenched down and worked the egg in deeper. That was probably… Probably too much for a human, but Crowley had the extra capacity to keep going, and the hot tingle of his nerves was telling him to do it.

“Angel, Angel pleasssssssse.” 

The fifth, and Crowley was grinding his clit against Aziraphale’s fingers, and clenching in a deeply satisfying rhythm around the mass of the eggs, and he was a lucky fucker because one had settled in the right place that every flutter of his cunt pressed the firm egg against his g-spot, and he chased that feeling, panting rapidly, mouth wide open, eyes unfocused and _FUCK YES_ that was an orgasm.

Crowley groaned as he involuntarily bore down hard on the eggs inside him, the feeling even better than his dream, firm with just a little give, rubbing against his inner walls in ways he hadn’t imagined, and shifting with every movement.

"There you go. Good, very good." Aziraphale smiled down at him and stroked Crowley's hair. Crowley whimpered. There wasn't a single scrap of thought left for keeping his dignity. He was overwhelmed by everything, but as soon as he recovered he would be asking for more. His long forked tongue lolled from his mouth as he breathed fast and hard. 

"Kiss me? Please," was the first thing Crowley said when he had recovered his breath. Aziraphale obliged, and the softness of his lips was perfect in combination with the distant warm fuzziness of Crowley's thoughts.

Through it Aziraphale played with Crowley's clit and folds softly, keeping him from slipping too far into post-coital relaxation. Aziraphale broke the kiss to speak.

"Ready to be good and take more for me, darling?"

“ _Fuck yessss._ ” The thought of taking egg number six sent whatever brainpower he’d recovered right out the window. There was an embarrassingly long moment where Aziraphale gave an indulgent smile and raised a brow, and Crowley was confused why nothing else was happening. “Uh. Fuck yes, _pleasssse_?”

“That’s right, dearest.” 

The warm and happy glow of praise met the feeling of Aziraphale stuffing his cunt even fuller, and Crowley was again reduced to whining as the sixth egg joined the rest, his hips rocking thoughtlessly against Aziraphale’s fingers.

He didn’t have to ask for the seventh or eight which was just as well, because any words other than “ _yes”_ or _“please”_ were gone beyond him, along with the imagination to insist that his body look smooth-skinned human, not scarlet and sable serpent-scaled. He smiled dazedly at Aziraphale’s rosy cheeks and his plump lips, glistening where Aziraphale licked them. 

“Gorgeous. My gorgeous demon. You look so... “ Aziraphale seemed to forget what he was going to say as his gaze flickered down to Crowley’s slit. He paused, breathed. “All stretched open for me. Let me get my mouth on you.”

“Yessss.” 

As soon as Aziraphale’s mouth descended on Crowley’s clit, Crowley had his claws in Aziraphale’s hair, holding him there. From the muffled sounds of satisfaction Aziraphale was making, that was _quite_ alright. Aziraphale gave him great long laving licks interspersed with sucking on his clit. Crowley writhed, the feeling of fullness along with the wet slide of Aziraphale’s lips and tongue almost too much. His back arched into an irresistible curve and he let out an inhuman shriek. Aziraphale kept going, and Crowley let himself be pleasantly obliterated by his second orgasm of the night.

The come-down lasted until Aziraphale patted the swell of Crowley’s stomach and Crowley made a plaintive little noise because why did _that_ feel good? Whatever messing around with his insides he’d done to be able to take all the eggs, it made everything deeply enjoyable. 

Even Aziraphale pressing lightly and thoughtfully on Crowley’s lower stomach sent a flash of pleasure through him. Crowley squirmed and whined and, fuck, he was halfway to coming again.

“Is that enjoyable for you? Crowley?” Aziraphale looked genuinely curious, tilting his head and studying Crowley’s reactions.

“Yhh. Yeahhhh. More?” Crowley was dimly aware he was drooling a bit, his tongue not fitting properly in his mouth but lolling out over his lip from between his sharpened fang-teeth. Aziraphale made him lose control of his shape every once in a while but Crowley never felt like a monster, not with his lover’s hand tenderly stroking and patting his belly. It was good, it felt good, and Aziraphale always made him feel good and never looked at him with anything other than love. 

“Of course, dearest.” Aziraphale kissed the inside of one scaled thigh so sweetly that Crowley almost threw a hand over his own face to hide his blush, until he realised his scales did it for him. He dug his claws back into the mattress again instead.

Crowley watched as Aziraphale bent down and lapped at his slit, his hips jerking forward automatically before Aziraphale pressed firmly down on his lower stomach and pinned him in place. That had no business being so hot but Crowley just _knew_ that somewhere in his subconscious a professional little office was being set up to _make it_ his business. A whole lobbying firm in his psyche to advocate for devoting more of his thoughts to Aziraphale pinning him down.

There was a sort of pressure building in his lower back along with the rising pleasure of being pinned between Aziraphale's hand and tongue. The hot mouth and the warm hand stroking his stomach. It built and built until he was arching his back again in bliss, a double release which left him hazy-eyed and shivering and wriggling his new tail. 

Well. That was a thing.

A thing with sensitive new nerves that he discovered when Aziraphale smilingly stroked the soft red underside. Crowley sighed and let his head fall back, enjoying the afterglow. It was when Aziraphale lazily kissed him and Crowley nuzzled back that Crowley remembered he would have to _lay_ the eggs. 

A bolt of arousal went through him. Fuck, he wasn't done for the night yet.

"Azzzziraphale," he hissed weakly, and tried not to bite his tongue as he stumbled over his words, "let me up. I haveta, oh blessssss," he broke off, distracted by the soft hand stroking his stomach, "I haveta lay the eggsss." He felt himself letting his legs fall open at the thought, hips pushing forward.

"Ooh." Aziraphale sat up and clapped his hands together in delight. "I would love to watch you." Looking up at his sweetheart's flushed, shiny-eyed giddiness, Crowley remembered that Aziraphale hadn't gotten off yet. That'd be item two, after laying his eggs.

“Mmph. Fuck me after.”

“With pleasure.” Aziraphale had positioned himself with his head propped in his hands to watch Crowley. 

Crowley was only a little self-conscious about the open hunger in Aziraphale’s gaze. The rest of his thoughts, emotions, fleshy bits, and whatever passed for a demonic soul were all devoted to feeling really, really, ridiculously horny. His atoms were horny. His quarks and leptons were horny. It was horniness all the way down to the sub-atomic level.

Crowley sat up, braced himself on his hands and splayed his legs open, waiting for gravity to do its thing. Sure enough, the eggs started to inch on down. It was strange but enjoyable all at once. Crowley wet his lips, took a breath, and laid the first egg.

By the time he was halfway through, Crowley was a quivering mess. Each one he laid stretched him open on the way out and irresistibly reminded him of how Aziraphale had put it there. It wasn’t quite enough to get him off again, but it was enough to leave him feeling hot and shivery and grateful that Aziraphale had inched closer to stroke his hair.

The last few were harder to lay. He had to concentrate not to clench greedily around the eggs, to keep savouring the solidity of them. He was going to _need_ to get fucked after this, to have Aziraphale fill him, to get something to appease his empty cunt. 

Last one. Crowley couldn’t bring himself to relax his muscles enough for the egg to slide free. His claws were too sharp to retrieve it. With a groan, Crowley wriggled the tip of his new tail into his slit, managed to curl it around the egg toy, and pulled it free with a fine trail of slick. He was tempted to plunge his tail right back in to fuck himself, if not for Aziraphale waiting so patiently for him. He let his limbs give out and lay down on his belly, looking up at Aziraphale and his glorious erect cock.

“Fuck me. Pleassssse.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Aziraphale tittered. He traced his hand down Crowley’s side as he repositioned himself. “Not that I didn’t enjoy the show, but - this is starting to hurt from not being seen to.” Crowley imagined him gesturing primly to his cock. 

Aziraphale lined up to take Crowley from behind, and with the brush of fabric against him Crowley realised that Aziraphale was still half-dressed. It was delightfully weird and completely like Aziraphale. Crowley smiled to himself right until he started to gasp from the gentle press of Aziraphale’s cock. His slit parted easily for Aziraphale, he was still loose and relaxed after laying the eggs. 

Aziraphale’s cock was thick enough to make Crowley feel full. He sighed happily again before a thrust turned it into a moan. Trust Aziraphale to interrupt him like that, in the best way.

“I’m going to speed up now, dearest.”

“Go for it.” Crowley flashed a thumbs up before digging his claws into the bed. Aziraphale was true to his word, setting a delicious pace and pressing Crowley down into the bed with his thrusts. Crowley’s tail curled back around one of Aziraphale’s legs without him thinking about it, squeezing to urge Aziraphale on to fuck him faster.

Aziraphale pulled Crowley up onto his knees, and Crowley made a quizzical noise until a hand started massaging his clit. After that he just moaned, eyes rolling back as he enjoyed the pounding, enjoyed being caught between Aziraphale’s hand and cock. Only Aziraphale holding on to his waist stopped Crowley from falling down flat on his face when he came hard, legs and arms shaking. He kept coming and coming for what felt like an eternity but was probably only a minute or two. 

Crowley was a cloud of soft pink brain fuzz and wobbly limbs when Aziraphale finally let out a choked cry and came inside him. The angel’s stamina was baffling. Probably left over from having to guard Eden or whatever. Crowley had no idea. 

All Crowley wanted to do now was crawl on top of Aziraphale, kiss him, and use him as a very squishy and affectionate heat rock. He could sort his shape out later. He was going to enjoy the perks of a constant source of warmth combined with all those endorphins and stuff and getting loved on. And he was _not_ going to feel embarrassed over the egg thing. It had worked out great and he’d gotten off really hard. _And_ multiple times in a row.

Aziraphale cuddled him, and softly cooed over his scales and stroked him. Crowley floated in the afterglow until Aziraphale interrupted the wordless hush that had fallen over them.

“You know…” Aziraphale sounded a bit hesitant, a bit bashful. “You’ll have to make love to me in this sort of shape sometime.” Was Aziraphale embarrassed? How could Aziraphale be embarrassed after indulging Crowley’s… Thing?

“Oh?” Crowley pushed his thoughts to start working again ahead of schedule. He smirked, and pushed himself up on only slightly wobbly arms to loom over Aziraphale. “You want the scary demon to rut you until you can’t think?” 

“Well, yes. It’s very alluring. I’d like that very much. And you don’t scare me a bit, you silly serpent.” Aziraphale tapped his pointer finger against Crowley’s nose.

“...Love you.” Crowley ducked back and nuzzled his face into Aziraphale’s soft chest, and heard rather than saw the smile in the angel’s reply.

“I love you too, Crowley.” 

“And because I love you, and want to make it happen for you, I’m gonna need to hear every sordid detail of your fantasies for next time, Angel.” Crowley mumbled, tiredness catching up to him. “But after I have a nap.”


End file.
